Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76780 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76780 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“I’ve been called a lot of things but hospitable isn’t one of them,” Atlas says, his smile curving his barn red lips up on one side in a devious way that promises lots and lots of trouble.
“Just text me later with your schedule this week,” I blurt out. “I’ll come to dinner. Now, if you’ll go away, I can get back to bed.”
“Me too.” Atlas releases the door frame. “On the couch.” The fucker winks. I’m going to kill him.
Dante wisely doesn’t say anything. He gives me a clipped nod over his shoulder and then steps in front of Atlas, who’s still blocking the doorway. For a split second, I think my brother might knock Atlas on his ass. He’d deserve it, and I would laugh. But, in the end, Dante clears his throat, which has Atlas removing his hands from the top of the doorframe and stepping back. Dante shuffles past him and stalks down the hallway. I shoot Atlas an exasperated look before shoving past him too. He grabs a handful of my ass on the way, sending a thrill down my spine. When I make it into the living room, Dante is staring at the couch that’s unruffled with all the pillows neatly in place. No blankets. No body indentations. He’s not stupid.
Thankfully, rather than blowing up on me, he leaves.
“You’re such a dick,” I grumble, turning to face Atlas as he enters the room. “Such a dick.”
He places his hands on his hips, drawing my eyes there. The sweatpants, unlike mine, aren’t tied tight and hang off his hips. His prominent V muscles are sculpted perfection and dusted with his golden hair.
Jesus.
I want to eat him up.
His dick plumps as I unabashedly stare at him with a starved gaze. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband and teases the material lower. I lick my lips and take a step forward.
“Are you going to fuck me?” I murmur.
“No,” he replies, his brow lifting. “You’re going to fuck me on the chaise.”
“In front of the window?”
“Afraid someone will see?”
I roll my eyes. “It’s not my name on the mortgage. I don’t care who sees. But, your ass is sitting on a towel because that piece of furniture is vintage, and I will die if you get cum on it.”
“All the cum is going inside you this time.” He shoves down his sweats, and his dick bounces heavily out. “Buy yourself some lipstick today.”
“Freak.”
He winks at me before sauntering over to a towel that’s still on the floor. Beside the bottle of lube by the fireplace. Fuck. I completely forgot about that. There’s no doubt in my mind Dante got an eyeful.
Since we never used the towel and went straight to the shower last night, Atlas drapes it over the chaise, flashing me his fine ass in the process. He sits down, his back against the cushioned pillow, and stretches a long leg out. His other leg remains bent with his foot on the ground. My mouth waters because he’s an absolute vision right now with a teasing smirk on his handsome face and thickened cock resting against his lower stomach.
“I want to paint you,” I whisper. “Just like that.”
He uncaps the lube and pours a healthy amount all over his hand. Slowly, he strokes his erection with one hand. His other arm stretches up behind him, and he rests his head on it.
I’m frozen.
Staring at each curve and hard muscle on his masculine form.
I memorize each dip. Every hair. The way his chest hair glistens like gold in the sunlight.
His eyes pin me, darkening with each passing second. Even with his hair messy from sleep and the scruff on his cheek grown out, he looks so damn beautiful.
“You going to stare all day, or are you going to sit on my dick, pretty boy?”
Heat rushes to my cheeks. My own dick is hard, straining against the material of my borrowed sweats. Shamelessly, I rub over the top of my pants, needing to bring some relief to my aching cock.
“Get over here, and I’ll do that for you. All you have to do is give me your sexy lips.”
I fight a grin at his words, but he sees, flashing me one of his own.
“I like you in my clothes,” he murmurs, licking his plump red lips. “I want you to smell like me.”
Hooking my thumbs into my waistband, I shove my pants down, letting them drop at my ankles. I kick out of them and prowl his way. He continues to stroke his dick lazily, but his stare is calculating and hungry. I shiver as I approach.
“Turn around and bend over,” he instructs. “I want your ass good and ready.”
He’s so fucking bossy. For some reason, it turns me on. Really turns me on.
Swiveling around, I bend at the waist. He leans over and playfully nips at my ass cheek before his slick fingers slide down my crease. The intrusion of his finger makes me wince because I’m still raw from last night. But, the more he fingers my hole and teases my prostate, the more I’m damn near begging for his dick.